The Champion (Racing on the Edge) (4 page)

Opening the door to our master bedroom, I tossed the book
at his head, not caring at that point if it hurts him or not. Of course, it
hits him in the back of the head with a thump.

“Oww
...
fuck
Sway, why in the hell did you do that?” He asked rubbing his head and glaring.
“That hurt.”

I must have looked rather hideous because when he looked
at me, his mouth dropped open in shock.

There I was, with just a bra on standing in the doorway
to our bathroom in a puddle of water. My hair probably looked like a haystack
and I’m pretty sure my nipples were leaking again. I checked just to make sure
...
Yep, leaking.

Great
, now I needed to change my bra too. I threw
my arms up in the air once again, frustrated with my lack of body control.

“Mmm, since you’re up
...
”
Jameson reached for me pulling me onto the bed after I put on a new pair of
underwear. “you have some serious make-up sex to do.”

“My water broke.”

“I’ll get you a new one.” He said yanking me down. “Back
to the make-up sex,”

“No, I’m serious. My water broke.”

“And I told you I’d get you a new one tomorrow. Get over
here
...
” his expression of lust changed
rather suddenly when he felt my lack of body control leaking on him. “Did you
pee on me?”

“What are you?” I slapped him across the face. “I told
you my water broke!”

“Well shit
...
” he
took in my appearance again, comprehension flashed when I turned on the light
and untangled myself from him. “Are you
...
?”

“Either that or I’ve peed my body weight in piss. Get
your ass up!” I yelled walking over to the dresser to find some clothes to
wear.

Jameson was rambling incoherently and pacing across our
bedroom as he tried to find clothes to wear. It wasn’t long before I was
staring at him naked and then the reality of the situation hit me. I was in
labor and couldn’t be focusing on a camshaft.

After all, that camshaft was the reason I sprung a leak
in the first place.

2.
             
Bell Housing – Sway

Bell Housing – A
cover, shaped like a bell, that surrounds the flywheel and clutch that connects
the engine to the transmission.

Every time I thought about going into labor
...
I didn’t think it would happen on Christmas
day nor did I expect it would be anything like
this
. I wasn’t prepared
for the pain nor was I prepared for unprepared we were.

Jameson was wound up and I was a basket case with an egg,
the egg being the baby if that didn’t make sense.

“It’s fucking freezing out here!” Shivering, he rubbed
his hands together once he was inside the car.

“Jameson, just calm down,” I glanced down at his bare
legs and giggled as we sat in the Expedition.

“I am calm. This is my calm.” His eyes narrowed as I
continued to giggle, and pee a little.

“Really? If you’re so calm, where are your pants?”

He sighed in defeat when he looked down and realized why
he was so cold. “Shit.”

He came back a few minutes later, still complaining.

“I’ve eaten entirely too much ice cream these days
...
my pants don’t even fit!”

“Jameson?”

“Yeah?” he glanced over at me digging the keys out of his
pocket.

“Those are
my
pants.”

“Shit.”

He came back again, another five minutes later, still
complaining, but this time he looked even more agitated.

“Jesus Christ, did you buy these for me? I mean
...
I know I’ve gained a few pounds this
off-season, no thanks to you and your ice cream
...
but
fuck. What’s with the kangaroo pouch?”

“Those are
mine
!” I yelled. We were never going to
make it to the hospital at this rate. “You should change and wake the fuck up!
Put your own goddamn clothes on!”

He sat there staring at me for a moment like I’d lost my
mind. He’d lost his mind, not me.

“You really should change.” I motioned with my hands to
the water still trickling out of me. “We need to go.”

“You think?”

I punched his shoulder. “Don’t be an asshole.”

When he came back he was finally wearing his own jeans
and in a completely different mood. I began to think he’d smoked some of
Charlie’s pot.

“Okay, let’s do this!” he proclaimed pumping his fists in
the air and starting the truck.

“This isn’t a pep rally. Calm down.”

“I’m being supportive. There’s a difference.”

“Is that so?” I snorted. “I couldn’t tell.”

“You don’t have to be so harsh. I’m only trying to be
encouraging.”

“How about you focus and drive to the goddamn hospital!”
I snapped slapping the back of his head. “That would be supportive.”

He glared. “Stop hitting me.”

“Since I will be popping a child out of my crankcase
today, I will do whatever the fuck I want.” I slapped him again. “Now drive!”

“You should be nicer to me.
I’m
the one driving.”

I sighed heavily. “No, you’re not driving. You’re sitting
here wearing one of my maternity shirts and arguing with me about being nicer
to you.” I pointed to his shirt and leaned back in the seat, his eyes drifted
to his shirt. “You should look in
your
closet for
your
clothes. I
don’t know how many times I have to tell you but mine is the one on the left,
not yours.”

Smugly he got out to change his shirt and came back with
a muffin in hand and another bottle of water. I reached for the muffin, rolled
the window down and tossed it in the driveway. “I can’t eat so neither can you
asshole.”

After a good twenty minutes of this bullshit, we finally
made our way to Saint Peters Hospital in Olympia, only to have Jameson go the
wrong way, twice and then ask to stop at Burger King because he was hungry.

My response, “Go ahead but if you eat in front of me I
will chop your dick off, no lie.”

He didn’t stop but he did complain the entire trip about
how he was starving and that I had no right to throw his muffin out the window.
I had no sympathy for him or his stupid muffin.

On the way there, I called our family and let them know
we were heading to the hospital and wouldn’t be there for Christmas morning.
Instead, we’d be bringing our son into the world if we stopped arguing long
enough to actually get there.

I still couldn’t grasp that this was it. For the past few
months, I had imagined what this would be like, going into labor. Now that it
was finally here, I had no idea what to do. I was a nervous fucking wreck and
muffin boy beside me wasn’t any better.

Spencer and Alley were already in Olympia so they were
the first to arrive, although I didn’t want Spencer anywhere near the hospital
when I had the baby.

I was frightened enough thinking a child was supposed to
come out of my crankcase making it the size of the Grand Canyon.

That shit will never be the same.

Dr. Sears met us on the labor and delivery floor as soon
as we arrived. After getting me settled in a room and hooking up the monitors,
he sat down to give us the news.

“Sway, your water has broken.”

Well at least I knew that I didn’t pee, slightly
reassuring.

“I need to do an exam.” He said putting his gloves on.

Immediately I felt Jameson’s hand tense around mine when
he checked my cervix. I’m sure this was awkward for him to watch. Who would
want to watch another man stick his fingers inside his wife’s crankcase to
check her bearing alignment?

Definitely not Jameson.

When the doctor hadn’t moved his hand as quickly as my
overbearing husband wanted, Jameson shot him a glare.

“Are you finished yet?”

Dr. Sears ignored him and delivered the news I was
dreading. “So it looks like you are fully effaced and dilated to a five. You’re
measuring at thirty-four weeks and the baby looked great on the last
ultrasound. If everything goes okay we should have him in your arms this
evening depending on how your contractions progress. Looks like we’ll have a
Christmas baby!”

This should have been good news to me but the word
contraction was haunting me. I didn’t like that word, feared it actually.

“What are contractions?” I asked with a hesitation a
mother-to-be shouldn’t have. I skipped certain parts of those pregnancy books
for a reason. Denial. “I mean
...
I
understand they’re like cramps, right?”

“Yes Sway.” Dr. Sears laughed but held some concern for
his patient and her being a dumb shit. He was probably wondering if he should
call social services now in fear this child shouldn’t be with someone like me.
I would if I was him.

“The contractions are what
push
the baby out.”

“Do they hurt?”

His brow furrowed and his eyes darted between Jameson and
me.

“Well, I’ve never had a baby but from what the women I
treat say, yes
...
badly.”

“Can’t you just knock me out?” I whined.

“No, we don’t do that these days.”

“Shit.”

I looked down at my bulging belly and wondered why he
couldn’t have magical powers and just magical-power his way out of me.

Jameson reached for my hand pulling it to his lips. A
small smirk appeared across his lips as though he was thankful he wasn’t the
one doing this.

“It’s okay honey.” He had the nerve to say. “You’ll do
fine.”

“Do me a favor.” I told him pulling my hand away. “Don’t
say that. For the sake of my sanity through this, do not say everything will be
fine.” I motioned to my stomach. “There is a watermelon trying to squeeze out
of my crankcase right now. IT IS NOT FINE!”

He laughed. Fucking laughed.

I tried to keep myself and Jameson calm as the nurses
went to work but clearly, I was freaking the fuck out. Jameson wasn’t doing
any
better. I swore to myself at one point if he ran his hands through his hair one
more time I was going to junk punch him.

Usually, I found this sexy, the whole stressed Jameson
running his hands through his wild hair but right then, it was irritating the
hell out of me, which was precisely why Spencer wasn’t allowed in the room.

He and Alley showed up a little while after we got here
and Spencer decided it was appropriate to eat a breakfast sandwich in front of
me while I was in fact starving to death.

“I wouldn’t go to sleep tonight if I were you,” was my
response.

“I forgot how scary you can be.” He replied backing away.

I kicked him out into the waiting room after that. He
reluctantly left after making more than one reference to my crankcase and the
fact that Jameson would need a GPS to navigate his way around after the baby
came out. Such a tool.

How Alley could stand him was beyond me.

Emma stepped in for a moment and teased Jameson about not
having sex for six weeks after the baby was born.

“I’m not talking about my sex life with you.” Jameson
replied harshly. “That’s inappropriate.”

“It’s not inappropriate.” She told him taking a drink of
her mocha, which pissed me off because I really wanted coffee. “I’m your
sister, not your mother. We can talk about sex.”

“No, no we can’t. We’re not close.” He went on to say.
“That’s
not
something we talk about.”

Emma started crying. I had no idea why, but she left. It
might have had something to do with the fact that Jameson just told her they
weren’t close but I couldn’t be sure and I really didn’t fucking care at that
moment. My insides felt like they were being ripped apart, sparkplug by
sparkplug.

“You should go comfort her.” I told Jameson who had just
picked up a magazine.

“Why?” he didn’t look up but shook his head. “I don’t
want to talk to her.”

“Because you made her cry,”

“She’s a girl.” He said. “Girls cry,”

Another contraction hit me and I swear on all that was
holy that my fuel pump gave way.

“I’m never having sex with you again!” I yelled in the
midst of the contraction. “I’m serious this time.”

Jameson threw me a frantic glance. “That’s a bit drastic.
Don’t you think?”

“No
...
I don’t!”

“Just calm down
...
everything
is
...
” My murderous glare cut him off.
“Sorry
...
” he mumbled and looked out the
window.

“Merry Christmas!” Spencer walked in wearing a Santa Claus
hat with Tommy behind him. “Smile for the camera.”

I can imagine what that picture would have looked like.

I turned to Jameson. “If I stabbed Spencer with a fork do
you think I’d get arrested?”

He shrugged.

“No, Emma didn’t. Just make it look like an accident.”

He grabbed Spencer by the sweatshirt he was wearing and
flung him toward me.

“Here, hold out that fork and I’ll trip him. Problem
solved.”

Spencer left after that.

“Good plan, honey,” I high-fived him, “I like the way you
think.”

“We make a good team.” He agreed.

Nancy and Jimi came in after that just to say hello and
wish us good luck and Merry Christmas. I kept adjusting my blanket to make sure
Jimi couldn’t see anything.

He noticed and just like his sons, felt the need to
embarrass me.

“Sweetheart,” he drawled out slowly. “I’m damn near fifty
years old
...
I’ve seen it all before.”

Jameson realized what I was covering up.

“That doesn’t mean
you
need to see it!” He barked
at his dad handing me another cup of ice chips. “Stop looking.”

“Okay
...
well
...
we will be in the waiting room.” Nancy
announced and leaned down to kiss my forehead. “You look great.”